And she echoes
And so she sings
And so she echos
And so she sings
And she sings in abandoned tongue
And she recants stories of the forgotten
To an audience vacant or brimming
And the wooden floor beneath her creaks
The wick burns brighter in the afternoons
And sets the stage for her dramas many
And they rebound off the weathered walls
Into her choir, she harmonizes a ballad
And sings for those who couldn’t sing
And so she lends her voice for the forgotten
A toll on the health of the ending is a price
She pays for the genius of her brothers
And the radiance of her sisters be known
And the garden so tamed by her mother
And the crafts so immaculate of her father
So they join her in oblivion dance
Guided only by the sound of her voice
She sings for those who once sung
And so she sings